Grief, Loneliness, and Redemption . . . Sorta
By Bill Jacobks
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About this ebook
Bill Jacobks
Bill Jacobks was native of Chicago, then Austin, Tx where he went to graduate school at the University of Texas in history and political science. He and his wife moved to Muskegon, Mi. where he taught at Muskegon Community College and where his wife was Assistant Financial Aid Director. While at MCC he went to St. John’s Graduate Institute in Santa Fe, NM and received a degree, Master of Liberal Arts. He is retired. His wife died in 2017 and these poems and three other books of poems are the attempt to find a new life without her.
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Grief, Loneliness, and Redemption . . . Sorta - Bill Jacobks
Grief, Loneliness
Redemption…
Sorta
Bill Jacobks
Copyright © 2017 by Bill Jacobks.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017914231
ISBN: Softcover 978-1-5434-5156-6
eBook 978-1-5434-5155-9
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Rev. date: 09/20/2017
Xlibris
1-888-795-4274
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CONTENTS
I. A RAW HEART
Am I Mad or Sad?
Not damned, but damned sad
Arrested for Lapsed Grief
II. MY HEART IS BLEEDING TO DEATH
Opening Remarks:
Before Being stabbed in the heart
Lady Farewell
Trying to heal the wound
Need & Despair
The journey, again
My hair is a mess
Goin’ out without a hat
No end
III. GRIEF, FRIENDS, AND MEDICINE
A New Friend
When The Holy Breaks In
Friends In Grief
The Medics: Friends
The Taste Of Tears
The Gift Of Grief
How Odd The Holy Spirit
Listening To C & W
Life The Uroborous
Dr. Grief Wins
Poker With God
Grief Relief
IV. TALKIN’ TO GOD WHEN I AM DRUNK
Do you get drunk, God?
Another drink with God
Oh God, please talk to me.
I Sent a Balloon to God
V. SUPPLICATION AT JOE’S BAR AND GRIEF IN GROUPS
Supplication At Joe’s Bar
Grieving In Groups
VI. ANXIETY’S CHILD: STORY OF A NON-BIRTH
VII. I WANT TO BE A WOMAN: STORY OF A LOST SOUL
VIII. THE DOCTOR TOLD ME MY HEART WAS TOO BIG
I. A Raw Heart
Endorsements in Lieu of a Preface¹
The world owes you no pleasure, love, or honor. We are guests here and must respectfully and humbly act in gratitude.
From: The Secret Book of Angels, Chapter LXI, p XIX.
Before television, we had words.
From The Book of River Elders, p XXI.
You don’t needs guns, you have words.
Ibid.
I saw a grieving heart, and my heart broke.
From, The Lost Speeches of Tutankhamen, p IX
Grief breaks your heart so that you can feel human: anger, desire, love.
From The Book of the
River Goddess, p CXIX.
Some days are diamonds
Some days are stone
Can’t get those bad days to leave me alone
Uh huh… Uh huh… Oh Yeah
All alone
No one home
Since you went away
I do this and I do that
But I don’t know where I’m at
Some days are diamonds
Some days are stone
Got no one to love
Just a little grace from above
Don’t know if I’ll love again
All it does is rain
Some days are diamonds
Some days are stone
Can’t get those bad days to leave me alone
Uh huh …Uh huh… Oh Yeah
Ok…Ok…Ok
Say it over and over.
May be you’ll believe it.
But, I don’t.
Yet, I have no choice.
So I say with a broken voice.
Ok…Ok…Ok…
Chocolate doesn’t help.
Food’s lost its taste.
Wine just makes me dizzy.
I to turn to prayer,
And find some relief.
Still, there is always grief.
Hershey help me!
Cheeseburgers rescue me!
God forgive me!
Tears dribble down my cheek.
The hole gets bigger.
Tried to fill it in
But the dirt just slipped through
To another universe.
The hole stays empty
Can’t fill it in.
I put on my shoe
Don’t know what else to do.
Get dressed!
Nothin’ else to do.
Pretend its alright.
But inside is night.
Just do!
Something will turn right.
But inside is night.
Where is the joy
That used to be?
All is sadness.
Heart is broken.
How to dispel this madness.
I’m getting better.
A little lie never hurt,
Did it?
Now be honest.
Are you up to par?
No?
Just smile.
May be it’ll get better.
My grief tears me apart.
Lord, put me back together.
I am like a puzzle.
Fit the pieces in the proper place.
For you know me better than I know me.
I count on you, Lord.
To whom shall turn if not you?
The learned of the Academy know only the sharp edges.
They measure them.
They Catalogue them.
They write about them.
But they do not know how to put them back together.
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